oped he knew
better than to tread on any one's toes; and a man who could afford to
give his daughter a handsome establishment and was on the look-out for a
house with a private chapel attached, had every right to his
consideration.

He had decreed that no official mention should be made of the family
party having been augmented at dinner.

"It's the custom in French houses for the abbe to appear without
invitation when he pleases. A very good custom; I wish it prevailed in
England," he alleged unblushingly. "As it doesn't, it is not our fault
if Custance only comes when he's asked; and I should certainly--Paul
would certainly, eh, Maud?--You needn't look stupid, my dear," with a
sudden touch of irritation. "You know very well what I mean."

And as she did and the rest did likewise, it was left to himself to say
easily as the party broke up: "We have only our good rector to meet you
to-night; he is quite _l'ami intime_ here, as I am sure you will agree
with me the clergyman of the parish ought to be. Squire and parson hand
in hand, eh?"

"And now I think I have settled that," quoth General Boldero to himself.

He had shot both his bolts; and though for a moment dismayed by the
reflection that he had no more in reserve, there was consolation in the
hope that no more would be required of him. Paul was evidently a
gentlemanly fellow who would avoid unpleasant subjects.

The general opinion of Paul, though it took a different form, was
equally favourable.

No sooner had the lovers disappeared in orthodox fashion, than encomiums
broke out all round. They compared him with people they knew; he was
like one man but taller--he reminded them of another but he was
handsomer. Perhaps he was not strictly handsome, but certainly he was
distinguished looking. If his nose were not a little on one side, it
would be a good nose. Sue had not noticed that it was on one side; she
thought it a very good nose as it was. Sue was even more enthusiastic
than Sybil. Sybil lamented the absence of a moustache. Let a mouth be
ever so good, a moustache was an improvement,--whereat her father
stroked his own and agreed with her.

In the midst of it all, Leonore slipped aside, and passed into the next
room where the photograph was. She was going to convince herself of its
being unlike, absolutely unlike, the original. She was going to
discover, point by point, wherein lay the contrast, and abandon for ever
the old Paul, thus replaced by the n